


chasing shadows

by simaetha



Category: The Silmarillion and other histories of Middle-Earth - J. R. R. Tolkien
Genre: F/F, reposted from tumblr
Language: English
Status: Completed
Published: 2016-06-01
Updated: 2016-06-01
Packaged: 2018-08-27 00:25:13
Rating: General Audiences
Warnings: No Archive Warnings Apply
Chapters: 1
Words: 1,044
Publisher: archiveofourown.org
Story URL: https://archiveofourown.org/works/8380255
Author URL: https://archiveofourown.org/users/simaetha/pseuds/simaetha
Summary: Prompt: "thuringwethil and haleth - hunting" - baradduh





	

It had been a hard crossing, over the mountains to the land called Thargelion, and Haleth was still not sure she liked it – all that open space to the North; anything could come down through it, no matter how well these Elf-princes claimed it was defended.

The Haladin had no fear of battle, but there were worse things than Orcs. Anyone who came from the East had cause to know that.

For now, crouching in the long grass, Haleth notched her bow, aiming at the partridge foraging nearby. The arrow shot true, but Haleth had no time to enjoy her success. A sharp hand-clap of applause rang out from behind her, and she spun round, already fitting another arrow to her bowstring before she had even caught sight of the other.

A moment’s tension, Haleth’s heart thudding in her chest.

Then the other woman smiled, and put up empty hands in a gesture of conciliation. Haleth lowered her bow, but did not put it aside.

“A fine shot,” the woman said. “I should have known better than to approach a warrior unannounced, I suppose; but I thought you might not appreciate it if I scared away your game.”

“My thanks for the compliment, but I had not thought to meet strangers here.”

“Then this must be an unexpected pleasure,” the woman said, with another quick smile. She stood hooded and cloaked, with the last of the sun at her back, but Haleth thought – from her height, and from the grace of her gestures – that she must be Elven, and made allowances accordingly. Elves did not, in Haleth’s experience to date, have much in the way of manners.

“You could say that,” Haleth answered, warily. She had learned the art of speaking words that were neither truth nor lie only slowly, but found much use for it, of late. “What brings you here, then, stranger?”

“Curiosity, I suppose. I have seen very little of mortals. You call me a stranger to you, but yours are a _very_ strange people.”

No manners at _all_.

“I might say the same of Elves,” Haleth said, bluntly, and the woman’s smile curved upwards, on the edge of laughter. “Well? Do we meet your expectations, or am I not enough to satisfy you?”

“Oh, I am never satisfied. But let me see you properly.”

The woman stepped forward, not hesitating, until the arrow in Haleth’s reflexively raised bow pressed against her chest. Holding the bowstring taut was a strain. Haleth frowned at her.

“Do you _want_ me to shoot you?”

“Are you going to?”

Sighing, Haleth let the bowstring slacken, and let bow and arrow fall to the side, held in one hand. “Oh, alright. What do you want to do? Examine my teeth? I should warn you, I bite.”

“So do I, sometimes,” the woman said. This close, her smile looked warmer, under the shadows of her hood.

“Well, fair’s fair,” Haleth said, startled into a laugh. “Let me see you, too, then. What’s your name?”

“Thuringwethil,” the woman said, putting back her hood. It had an odd sound to it, but Sindarin still did, sometimes, to Haleth’s ears – even more so, on this side of the mountains – and she found herself distracted by studying the woman’s face. It was growing dark, and the woman’s eyes were pooled in shadow, but she was unmistakeably very beautiful.

_Stop that_ , Haleth told herself in irritation, trying not to stare. The Elves were all beautiful. Haleth was hardly some young maid to have her breath taken away by every pretty face she saw.

It was probably a wasted effort, in any case. Thuringwethil herself studied Haleth unashamedly, eyeing the old scars along her jaw with particular interest; it was disconcerting to be the focus of such attention. It was only when the woman put out a hand to touch her hair that Haleth reached up to bat it away, and then found her hand itself caught and studied instead.

Thuringwethil’s own fingers were very soft, as they traced her callouses. Haleth could not quite bring herself to pull away.

“We’re made the same way as your people,” she said, scowling to cover her uncertainty, “even if we show our age a bit more. I suppose you’re older than my grandmother.”

“Much older than that. Your pulse is very fast.”

Haleth found herself struggling to respond, aware that she was failing in her efforts not to blush.

“Oh,” the woman said, smiling again, “is _that_ it?”

When Thuringwethil moved to cup her jaw, this time, Haleth let her; and then the other was leaning down, her mouth cool against Haleth’s own. Haleth shivered, caught by the familiar rush of pleasure; felt the kiss become more insistent, a hand smoothing down her back.

_To hell with this_ , she thought, after a moment; and reached up to twist a hand in Thuringwethil’s hair, the other finding the curve of Thuringwethil’s hip beneath her cloak, sliding beneath the soft fabric. Thuringwethil made an appreciative noise, and drew her close, their bodies pressing together.

It was only when Haleth tried to meet Thuringwethil’s eyes that she –

Haleth yanked herself back, scrabbling for the knife at her belt – at some point she had dropped her bow, _stupid_ – realising as she did so that Thuringwethil had let her go; had not tried to hold her. She gripped the knife-hilt hard, still panting, aware of how ridiculous it was to be facing one of the Dark King’s servants with only a hunting-knife. Aware that – that she –

Thuringwethil smiled at her again, and licked her mouth, very deliberately, showing sharp teeth and the pink curve of her tongue.

“Thank you,” she said, politely. “Haleth of the Haladin. I will remember you, I think.”

“What – “

But the demon was already turning, fading into the night, even as Haleth dived for her bow and fitted an arrow to it, practice carrying her past the shake in her hands. Haleth scanned the darkness in vain – her night vision would never be enough to catch such a creature – and began to back away, knowing as she did that her vigilance was entirely pointless, that the other had allowed her to live.

(It was only some time later that she would touch her mouth, and think – )

**Author's Note:**

> originally posted [here](http://simaethae.tumblr.com/post/145273825622/thuringwethil-and-haleth-hunting)


End file.
